


play, run, die; repeat

by goldengalaxies



Series: fics on temporary hiatus [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Baltimore, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Fluff, Kinda Dark, M/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Some Humor, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, Time Travel, Torture, but he gets better when he realises wtf is happening, only for the first couple of loops bc neil thinks he’s losing his mind, possibly more - Freeform, set in book 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 07:51:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21424759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldengalaxies/pseuds/goldengalaxies
Summary: neil gets trapped in a time loop set from before the game against the Bingham Bearcats. he re-lives getting kidnapped by his father and the fbi etc etc
Relationships: (hinted), Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Neil Josten & The Foxes (All For The Game), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: fics on temporary hiatus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1799968
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	play, run, die; repeat

**Author's Note:**

> hi :) 
> 
> warning: this gonna be dark y’all so if you get easily triggered this might not be the fic for u. there are no more than canon-typical mentions of r*pe or torture really so if you’ve read the book you’ll probably be fine but just a warning neil thinks he’s going crazy so he’s a lil unstable at the beginning🤷
> 
> anyways, on with the fic

Neil fingernails are still crusted with blood. His eyes rove over the dark flecks that stains his fingers. Is it his father’s blood? Is it his own? Lola’s? He can’t tell.

Suddenly, he can’t stand the sight of it anymore. His hands form fists, which he shoves into his jacket pockets, out of sight.

He forces his gaze upwards, away from thoughts of blood, to look at his team. He doesn’t even need to see their faces to tell they’re bitterly exhausted.

He never should have joined the team. He’s put them all in the firing line and for what? He’d only thought of himself. Only thought of his wants. What if his father had decided to come after his team yesterday? They could have been hurt- Andrew could have been touched, touched by _his_ father, _his_ past- and it would have been his fault.

_Selfish_.

He’s so selfish that that’s not even the thing he regrets most about what happened.

The thing he regrets most is that it wasn’t him who got to kill his father.

* * *

_loop #1_

He can’t tell how long he sleeps for, just that when he opens his eyes, he’s no longer sitting next to Andrew in the Foxes’ bus, but standing upright. He jerks in surprise, thrown by the sudden change in position.

“Neil?” It’s Renee. He’s bewildered to see she’s kitted out in her goalkeepers gear, and by the way his vision is obscured by the thin black mesh that is part of his helmet, he can tell he is too.

“Renee?” He blinks slowly. Did he black out? How did he get here, standing in his gear? He certainly didn’t get undressed himself and he can’t imagine Andrew doing it for him. Nor letting anyone else do it.

She returns an inquisitive look of her own. “Are you going to stay here all day?”

He doesn’t understand what’s happening but he realises by her tone that ‘yes’ is not a viable option, so just shakes his head slowly, and turns around. He takes a few uncertain steps, before he catches sight of a blonde head- two blonde heads- and follows their direction.

_What’s going on?_ Neil thinks as he takes in his team; fully kitted up, exy sticks in hand, standing in a line as if they’re about to go into a game.

He stares uncomprehendingly at the group. As far as Neil knew, they didn’t have another game until next month.

If they really were going into a game, Neil’s place would be at the front with Kevin, but he joins the end instead, taking a place next to Andrew. Andrew’s eyes flicker up and lock with Neil’s own. Neil, only having eyes for Andrew, ignores the not-so-subtle way Aaron shifts away from him as he approaches.

“What are we here for?” He asks.

Andrew’s lips curve into a amused smile. “If you’re trying to get me to say _to win_, I suggest you fuck off.”

Neil’s brows knit together. “What?”

Andrew gasps mockingly, pretending to be shocked. ”This isn’t a pep talk, junkie?”

Neil decides to ignore Andrew’s tone, for once not having the energy to argue. His brain is overflowing with questions. “What are you talking about?”

Andrew gives him a look. “And they say _I’m_ the crazy one. You losing your memory, Josten?”

The sound of shouting pulls his concentration away from Andrew and he glances around, his brows furrowing. It’s only when the sea of bright green and orange catches his attention that he stops to pause, and he begins to really take in their surroundings. They’re at Bingham stadium; and it’s full to the brim with people, screaming and cheering as their faces flash on the screen.

“What the fuck?” He breathes. “Why are we back here?”

Andrew’s brows raise, suddenly looking mildly interested. “_Back?_”

Neil rubs his throbbing temple. He just needs to stay calm.

_Is this a dream?_

“Neil,” Kevin snaps from the front. “Hurry up, we’ve got less than a minute until the game restarts.”

“What game?”

Kevin’s eyes nearly fall out their sockets. “Josten, I swear, this is _not_ the fucking time to start acting like Andrew.”

“I’m not.” Neil denies.

“What’s wrong with being like me, Kevin?” Kevin’s face drops slightly, but Neil can tell Andrew’s toying with him.

“Andrew.” He sighs, though his lips twitch at Kevin’s face. The man’s too high strung.

The faint sound of a whistle being blown can be heard and then, following that, the sound of an announcer; “And here comes Bingham’s _Bearcat’s!_”

Bingham’s Bearcat’s. But they’d already played this team. Two days ago.

Neil looks at the others, expecting someone else to look as confused as he is, but no. The only thing they look concerned about is him.

_Is he going crazy?_ Neil can feel fear building up in his chest, making it constrict uncomfortably. Has he finally cracked, become unstable, become like his father?

_Is this really happening? Is this just a dream?_

It doesn’t feel like a dream; there’s too much detail. His dreams usually do feel as fast-paced as this, but they’re never this specific. In a dream, he never would notice the individual shouts of the people in the stands, it would all blur into one noise- if he heard it at all. In a dream, he would never remember reality as keenly as he does now. When he’s asleep, it’s sometimes as if the world he lives in doesn’t exist; people who are living, dead, people who he’s never met before all drop into the scenes as if they belong there and he never questions it because, well, it’s a dream. Everything out of the ordinary seems normal in dreams; that’s just how it works.

But Neil doesn’t feel normal.

He can remember everything before the very second he was here.

The game. Winning. The riot. Lola, Jackson, Romero. A dashboard lighter and a meat cleaver. His father. Uncle Stuart. The FBI; Browning and Kurt.  
Falling asleep next to Andrew in the back of the Foxes’ bus.

_This is not a dream._

Neil pinches himself subtly, just to make sure. Nothing happens; he doesn’t wake up and he doesn’t feel nothing like he usually would in a dream. In fact, it rather stings.

This has to be real. Which means what he thought happened yesterday- no, today- couldn’t have been real. He must have had a nightmare or been daydreaming. That had to be it. It had to be- otherwise Neil’s losing his mind, just like his father had.

His brain does that sometimes. Makes things up. He goes in so deep into his own imagination that he forgets it’s not real.

He breathes out slowly. He’s nothing like his father. Everything’s fine. There’s probably a really good reason for this, which he’ll figure out after the game is over and won.

“You alright, Neil?” Matt asks after a few seconds of silence.

“Why are you asking him that?” He hears Allison mutter. “Ask him what drugs he’s on; that’s what I want to know.”

He ignores her. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” He hears Dan ask. “_Really?_” She looks at Matt incredulously. “Did he seriously just say he was fine?”

“If he said he’s fine, he’s fine.” Kevin snaps irritably. “Come _on_, Neil.”

“He’s clearly not fine, Day.” Dan retorts. “Or did you miss the fact that he doesn’t even know what game we’re playing?”

Neil ignores them as they continue to bicker, taking his lingering doubts and shoving them down. He snaps into action, tightening his grip on his racket and turning to Andrew. “Will you try today?”

“Maybe.” Andrew shrugs, seemingly letting Neil’s strange behaviour slides as he allows the sudden change in conversation. “I’ll see.”

The feeling of confusion only serves to make him more irritable, and he snaps at Andrew. “Can you or can’t you?”

“I don’t see why I should.” Andrew’s eyes narrow at Neil’s tone.

Neil distinctly remembers having this conversation already. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Not waiting for Andrew’s reply, he brushes off the weird feeling as deja vu and jogs up to the front of the line. Thankfully, Dan and Kevin have stopped arguing about him by the time he reaches the front.

“We were due on the pitch a minute ago, Neil! What the hell is up with you?” Kevin hisses through his teeth as they walk onto the freshly cut grass.

“Sorry.” Neil doesn’t bother explaining. Not only does he not have the time to explain what he was doing, explaining it would probably make him sound mental. And he really doesn’t want to examine the crazy going on upstairs right now. Or acknowledge it.

”You can make up for it now, Josten, I don’t care about apologies.” Kevin is still reprimanding him through his teeth. The annoyance in his tone is a stark contrast to the bright, crowd-pleasing smile he has plastered on.

Neil follows his gaze to the stands and, gritting his teeth, starts waving to the fans in orange. Neither him nor Kevin particularly enjoy the fan part of exy and can agree that it’s a waste of time, but Wymack deems it necessary.

A flash of green in the crowd catches his eye as he waves and he can’t help but stare.

Browning’s tie was that colour.

_No- Browning wasn’t real._

Neil dazedly moves to take his place, barely noticing the linebacker who was going to be marking him.

He reaches up, hand slipping under the mesh of his helmet to gingerly graze his fingertips over his cheekbone. The skin there feels soft, slightly matted because of the make up there, but nothing like how it felt before. No scarring. Another clue that pointed to the whole mess with his father being a dream.

He was being ridiculous- his father was in prison and that was that. Nothing had happened, he just had a nightmare.

_But... _a voice at the back of his mind whispers, _it felt real._

He shakes himself; there’s no point getting himself into knots over a stupid dream- it was probably just a result of him getting worked up over that ridiculous countdown someone kept sending him, nothing more.

They’re about to start the game, Neil can see the referee’s lips hovering over the whistle. He grips his stick with a renewed fever and, when the whistle blows, he plays like his life depends on it.

* * *

They’ve got sixty seconds to go and Neil’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to Kevin. In Neil’s dream, he had scored the final, winning goal right about now. He waits, holding his breath along with everyone in the stadium, as Kevin runs past his mark, feinting left before spinning around, shooting the ball towards the net. It lands and the crowd explodes in a mixture of happy screams and frustrated jeers. Neil can only stay silently numb, while his teammates cheer and hug one another.

The final buzzer sounds and Neil takes the opportunity to stumble off of the pitch, his ears ringing. The sound of his heart beating increases the anxiety and confusion that swirl together in his gut.

Kevin’s goal was exactly how he remembered it being in his dream.

How was that possible?

He bumps shoulders with Wymack as he walks through the underpass that leads to the changing rooms. Wymack is running the opposite direction for some reason but Neil doesn’t look to see why.

If a fight is breaking out, just as it did in his dream, it’ll be too much for him to handle. Too many coincidences from his dream for him to ignore; the conversation with Andrew, Kevin scoring the final shot in the last minute, the score being 31-5. If the bearcats are beginning a fight, he’ll have no choice to admit he’s certifiably insane. He can’t-

“Neil!” Wymack’s voice shouts from behind and Neil freezes, halfway through unlacing his trainers. “You and Dan are on press duty.”

_Just like the dream,_ his mind whispers to him. Neil just nods, eyes fixed on his boots.

“Thanks for your help back there by the way.” Wyamck snorts. “The one time that attitude of yours would’ve been helpful, you’re nowhere to be seen.” He adds to himself in a mutter. “Fucking figures.”

Neil doesn’t say anything- he can’t bring himself to ask what Wymack’s talking about, not wanting his fears to be confirmed.

Wymack rolls his eyes, expelling a noisy breath. “Fine. Go on then, get out of here.”

Neil brushes past him to where Dan is waiting patiently by the door. Her already shining beam grows when she locks eyes with him although he can see the tiredness in the way she carries herself. “Good game.”

He can’t help but return a smile, though it must be considerably dimmer than hers because her face drops. “Look, I know you said you were fine earlier, but-”

“I’m fine.” He interrupts hotly and then immediately regrets it. “Sorry, I...” He trails off, uncertain of what excuse to give her.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. She lets him off the hook with a small sigh. “Okay, just talk to someone about it if you need to. I’m always here, you know that.”

Neil nods gratefully but decides not to take her up on it. He’d rather not be carted off to a fucking insane asylum, thanks.

They walk over to the area where the press are waiting, cameras flashing eagerly.

“Josten! Josten look over here!”

“Wilds, care to comment on the Bearcat’s performance?”

“How are you feeling after such a win?”

The press break out into a multitude of shouts, every question getting louder and louder than the last as each reporter tries to get their voice heard over the noise.

“Wilds, do you think your team has it in them to go to the semi-finals?”

Dan opens her mouth to reply but is quickly cut off by the next question.

“Are you excited to play your next game?”

“Wilds! Over here! Give us a smile!” A flash goes off.

“Josten, how come you didn’t stay when the fight broke out? Is this because of what happened with Riko Moriyama?”

Silence falls that last question. Nearly all of the journalist’s eyes are fixed on Neil, awaiting and clearly expecting one of his usual fiery responses. Their pens are held poised over notepads, hovering to record every threat and insult he gives them.

But he doesn’t do that. He’s too numb to think of anything to say, his mind utterly consumed with panic. There _had_ been a fight.

Exactly like how he had dreamed.

_What if this wasn’t a dream?_

“The Bearcat’s aggravation has nothing to do with Neil, and we refuse to comment.” Dan says shortly, her face drawn into a determined glare which she uses to stare down the reporter until he backs down, withdrawing his microphone, which, until then had been hovering in Neil’s face. “If anyone has any questions about the actual game, please raise your hand.”

Even with all the insane thoughts racing through his head right now, Neil feel distantly impressed.

The rest of the interview passes in a blur, Neil can feel himself zoning in and out of thought, too consumed with overflowing confusion and flashes of panic that send his heart racing. He thinks he answers about three of the total questions asked, but Dan doesn’t seem to mind.

She slides her arm around his shoulder and when she rests her head on his shoulder, he leans back, reluctantly grateful for the support. They amble into the changing rooms, splitting up as they go into the segregated shower stalls.

He steps into the steam, sighing as the hot water beats down on his back.

What was happening to him? How was today happening the exact same as he remembers? He’d thought originally that he’d had a nightmare- the kind where you dream about every awful possible outcome- but something’s not right. Despite that being the most logical explanation, it still doesn’t make sense.

Despite having finished washing up in minutes, he stands under the spray until his fingers are wrinkled and everyone else has long changed and gone. He doesn’t want to leave, doesn’t want to pick up his bag, incase his phone is ringing, incase it’s Lola-

“Neil,” Wymack yells through the door, yanking him out of his thoughts. “What are you doing, drowning yourself? Get your ass in gear.”

At Wymack’s impatient tone, Neil forces his feet to move. It’s not until he tries to pull on some sweatpants that he realises that his hands are shaking.

_Pull yourself together, Josten,_ he reprimands himself firmly. _A bit of deja vu is not a big deal. Stop making it into one._

He needs to stop expecting something to happen; it was too similar to how he had been before- on the run with his mum, constantly looking over their shoulders, expecting the worst, thinking up all of the worst and most unrealistic ways he could find them and expecting them to happen.

Just as he pulls on a top, his phone buzzes with an incoming call. Gingerly and with trembling hands, he picks up the phone. He closes his eyes for a moment, praying to anyone listening that the number doesn’t have the Baltimore 443 area code.

It does.

“Don’t run.” He tells himself. 

Flipping open the phone, he presses answer and puts the receiver to his ear, heat racing so loudly that it’s almost all he can hear. “Hello?” He hates how his voice cracks.

“Hello, Junior. Remember me?” Lola Malcom speaks through the phone. The sound of her all too familiar voice makes him feel sick to his stomach. _No, no, no, no, no-_

“Junior.” She repeats.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, half not wanting to give anything away and half not being physically able to get the words out of his throat. _This can’t be real-_

“Junior.” Her tone is sharp and demanding and he can’t help but give in.

“Lola.”

“So you do remember me. Now you see, that's bad, because if you remember me, you remember who you are and where your place is.”

He stays silent, the lump in his throat growing by the second. He remembers what he said last time-_ why does he remember? How is it possible that there was there a last time-_ but he can’t bring himself to repeat the words.

_God, he’s losing his mind._

“Cat got your tongue?” She taunts. When he doesn’t even rise to that, she tuts in disappointment and continues. “Are you even listening? It’s time to go. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

_This can’t be real, it can’t be, it can’t-_

If it’s real then his father’s coming for him and Neil refuses to let that happen again.

He breathes and looks at the phone screen with shaking hands. And he does something he didn’t do before. He hangs up.

If he doesn’t act the same, it’s not the same as his dream. It won’t end up with a dashboard lighter and a knife or a dark, dingy basement-

Mind resolved, he chucks his phone to the floor and grabs his stick, using the handle end to crush it into irreparable pieces. He grabs the duffle with his extra clothes and takes off into the other room.

He bursts into the lounge, and silence falls as they all turn to him, their excited expressions dropping as they take in his panicked state.

“Neil-“ Nicky starts, but Neil barely hears him, his focus totally on the only non-fox in the room.

Jackson Plank.

They lock eyes for a moment and the world tilts as Neil begins to panic- _what now? Where can he run? There’s no where else to go._

It only takes a split second as Neil’s eyes flicker to the emergency exit for Plank to realise what he’s planning to do.

Romero Malcom comes into the room just Plank takes a step towards him. His team are still staring at him, unaware that his father’s lackey’s are getting closer, when he takes off for the door, desperately sprinting to get to it before they get to him. Allison lets out a surprised yelp at the sudden movement but it’s drowned out by Romero’s enraged shout.

“Nathaniel!”

It takes him mere seconds to reach the other side of the room and his fingertips just about graze the door handle when he’s yanked back.

Plank has the scruff of his t-shirt in a tight grip and he pulls Neil to his chest, using his forearm to keep Neil’s neck trapped. His other hand comes up holding a gun, training it on his team. “Did you see that, Romero, little Nathaniel tried to run.”

Malcom grins, even though the words are barely audible over the screams, as everyone rushes back or drops to the floor at the same moment- except Andrew who rushes forward, knife glinting under the light. The gun moves from pointing at the team to the side of Neil’s head where the familiar feel of cold metal bites into his skin and Andrew freezes.

“Drop the knife, kid.”

Andrew’s eyes are murderous but someone whose worked with the butcher for years is obviously unaffected. He looks up at the team, who are still huddled on the floor, looking anywhere but up- Malcom and Lola’s this time. When had she come in?

Allison’s crying in earnest now, and Renee’s eyes are closed as she clutches her necklace. Aaron’s face is trained to the ground, but his hand is wrapped bruisingly around Nicky’s bicep. Neil can’t see the others, and he doesn’t try to because a second later, the familiar sound of a gun cocking, rings through out the room.

“Oh, Nathaniel, you stupid boy.” Lola says, and then laughs. “You’ll regret that, trust me.”

And then she turns to Malcom, communicating silently as Neil struggles, his brain still not quite caught up to the chaos. In unison they turn to his team, and they each grab a person- he thinks it’s Renee- no, Allison- and then Aaron? _He can’t tell it’s happening too quickly_\- and shoots them in the head.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up @thejournalofshite on tumblr or leave comments to let me know what u thought of the first chapter ;)


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